A Highlander’s Passion
Highlander’s Beloved # 2
Highlander’s Beloved # 2
By: Vonnie Davis
Releasing April 7th, 2015
Two of the wildest hearts in Scotland fight for their destiny in this searing-hot romance, sure to be devoured by fans of Jennifer Ashley’s Shifters Unbound series and Shelly Laurenston’s Pride Stories.
As a bear-shifter in a pack roaming the Scottish countryside, Bryce Matheson embodies brute force and untamed abandon. As a widower, he’s running scared. When Bryce attempted to open his scarred heart to another, she grew tired of waiting for him to state his intentions, and the unearthly beauty spurned him for someone who wasn’t worthy. But now that fate has conspired to set Kenzie Denune free once again, Bryce vows to finally win her love.
Kenzie is a witch who summons her powers to protect those too weak to care for themselves. After surviving an abusive husband, she swears off men—even men like Bryce, whose iron muscles make her knees weak, and who’s piercing eyes fill her with longing. Her life’s purpose is to help others. However, dark forces have different plans for her gifts. To save herself, Kenzie must team up with the shifter who has always stirred her soul—and trust in a passion powerful enough to set her blood aflame.
Vonnie Davis, who studied English at Penn State, likens herself to a croissant: crusty, wrinkled, flaky—and best served with strong coffee. After a career as a technical writer, she’s spending her retirement playing fairy godmother to her characters, giving them their happily-ever-afters. Six fantastic, talented kids call her “Grandma” and brighten her world in so many ways. She lives in Southern Virginia with her husband, author Calvin Davis.
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Kenzie couldna believe her eyes. What the hell kind of shirt did Bryce have on? It looked like he’d walked through a cheap jewelry store while wearing a magnet on his verra fine chest.
His truck’s loud muffler had pulled her attention from her conversation with Effie in the front parlor and drawn her to the large bay window. Unwanted excitement at seeing him again had her heart beating erratically in her ears, pounding a rhythm of secret desires through her system. She battled those unspoken longings and won. A scowl of victory narrowed her eyes.
“What has your attention, Sparrow?” Effie drew near.
The two of them had worked hard to make Kenzie presentable fer her dinner out with Bryce. While she’d showered, Effie had mended the shoulder seam and then hand-scrubbed the clod’s muddy handprints from her blouse before tossing it into the dryer. She’d also set about sewing the tear in Kenzie’s favorite skirt. They’d worked together as an efficient, nearly silent team on her appearance.
And what had done? He’d shown up in a bright pink T-shirt nearly covered with doodads that sparkled in the late-afternoon sun.
Honestly, the fool looked like a walking neon sign for a cut-rate whorehouse.
“Oh look, he’s wearing the shirt Colleen made him for his birthday.” Effie’s hand drifted to her heart. “The child was so excited over her gift, she couldn’t wait for her dad to open it at his party. The little sprite crawled on Bryce’s lap and opened the package for him.” Effie’s laughter was like wind chimes: tinkling, soothing. “I’m betting she told him to wear it tonight. There’s something special about a man who loves a little girl so much he’d make a bit of a fool of himself to please her.”
Kenzie wouldna know. Her da had died shortly after she’d turned four and she barely remembered him. What would it be like to be cherished by a man so much, he’d wear such an outlandish garment and no doubt damn anyone to hell who commented on it?
She tilted her head to the side and allowed her artist’s eye to evaluate the creation as his long steps brought him closer to the house. Colleen showed a strong artistic flair. With some positive instruction, who knew how her talent might develop? If Kenzie ever got the chance she’d show Colleen how to use various mediums.
Colleen’s small handprints were outlined in silver and filled with little silver mirrors. Jewels and beads had been glued in a haphazard pattern over the pink T-shirt. Black beaded fringe edged the sleeves. With an unsteady hand, the child had painted “Me Da Is the Best” in bright purple.
Kenzie shook her head. “Yes, one might say he draws the eye in that shirt.” Still, what man ambled the way he did? Or filled out a pair of Levi’s like that? The denim lovingly cupped his manhood as if it were precious cargo.
Effie elbowed her. “Oh, the man saunters like walking sin, doesn’t he? I wonder who the flowers are for?”
“They’re pink. They must be fer ye.” The American often exhibited childlike exuberance, and Kenzie was beginning to enjoy it.
Bryce rang the doorbell and Effie hurried to answer it. As soon as the oldwoman opened the door, Bryce’s low voice and deep laughter skittered across Kenzie’s nerve endings, kissing them as they raced by. She was overcome with the strangest urge to run and hide—not out of fear of him, but of her own desires. His spurning of her feelings over a year ago had left scars she didna want to revisit. She curled her fingers into tight fists. Determination steeled her heart.